Driving back from Vermont, I stopped at a vegetable stand. It was deserted except for a sleeping German shepherd.

I stepped over the dog, helped myself to some corn, then opened the cash box to pay.

Taped to the inside of the lid was this note: "The dog can count."

The attorney tells the accused, “I have some good news and some bad news.”

“What’s the bad news?” asks the accused.

“The bad news is, your blood 
is all over the crime scene, and the DNA tests prove you did it.”

“What’s the good news?”

“Your cholesterol is 130.”

At my ten-year-old’s request, I loaded my Rolling Stones tunes onto his iPod.

"I had no idea you liked the Stones," I said.

"Sure. I like all that old-fashioned music," he said.

"What do you mean, ‘old-fashioned music’?"

"You know," he said defensively. "Music from the 1900's."

While I was making a huge batch of snicker doodle cookies, I asked my ten-year-old to read the recipe and ingredients off the box to me, doubling them as he went along.

He did as he was told. His first instruction: "Preheat the oven to 700 degrees."